


Fire Away

by springtimecas (sassynatural)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Hipster Castiel, Jock Dean, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-17
Updated: 2014-11-16
Packaged: 2018-02-25 17:02:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2629463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sassynatural/pseuds/springtimecas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean Winchester doesn't expect to get anything out of life except for a job at his dad's mechanic shop. Castiel Novak didn't want much out of life, besides a few nights out at a club and a pack of cigarettes. When the two of them find themselves writing notes to each other, without realizing who is at the other end of the pencil, they suddenly find themselves realizing just as much about their own lives as each others.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fire Away

**Author's Note:**

> First off, I'm terrible at summaries so yeah there's that. Secondly, this is the first fic I've tried to make long rather than just a ficlet. It's taken me months of editing to get just the first chapter where I want it, so don't be surprised if it randomly changes a little as I may decided to go back in and add more details, as that's my downfall. I'm not going to promise I can update this on a regular schedule as exams are coming up but my hope is that if I go ahead and post it that it'll motivate me to write more regularly. Hope you enjoy!

             Today’s lesson in English was as boring as it always was. Dean stretched back in his seat glancing at the clock. Damn, there was still 30 minutes until class was over. He briefly tuned into Mr. Burke droning on about the book he had assigned to the class the week before that Dean hadn’t bothered to read. It was his senior year and he already knew at this point that he wouldn’t be getting into college with his grades from the previous years, so he figured what’s the point in trying now. When classes had started a few weeks ago, everyone he knew had come in freaking out about college applications. Yeah he’d felt a little left out knowing that there was no hope for him in any career except working at his Uncle Bobby’s garage, but he’d tried to hide it.  He didn’t want any of his friends to see how much of a failure he really was, so he acted like it was what he really wanted. And it was what he wanted. He guessed. He quickly realized he wasn’t going to understand what Mr. Burke was talking about so he went back to drawing on his desk. This time he had decided on a dragon, and it was turning out to look pretty badass if he did say so himself. Drawing was a great distraction from the doubt’s he’d started having about his future. He mentally cursed himself for thinking about it and told himself to just accept his fate. He was just finishing up the scales when, finally, the bell rang to go to second period. Dean gathered up his books and didn’t think twice about his English class for the rest of the day.

 

            As he walked out of the classroom he spotted Sam walking in the opposite direction.  “Hey little bro!” he practically yelled as he walked up next to Sam, slinging his arm over his shoulders. 

            “Dean get off of me,” he hissed back. “You’re embarrassing.”

            “Hey I’m a senior and on the football team okay, if anything I should be embarrassed to be seen with you,” Dean joked as he ruffled Sam’s hair affectionately before dropped his arm back to his side. 

            “I’ve got to get to class,” his younger brother grumbled as he veered off down another hallway.

            “See ya later freshman!” Dean called after him, receiving a glare in return. It made him happy that he could see Sam at school now. After practically raising him, it made his heart swell with pride to see Sam succeeding in high school. At least one of them would be going to college. Ever since they were little, Dean had known that Sam would be the one who would do big things, and he’d always tried to make sure Sam would have those opportunities. Their dad had problems with alcoholism when they were kids and it’d almost resulted in their parents getting divorced; they’d had some rough times and almost had to move away from LA because of it. Mary insisted that Los Angeles was a bad city for a recovering alcoholic, but John didn’t want Sam and Dean to have to leave their hometown. Dean certainly didn’t disagree with that. He may resent John for the way he’d treated their family but he was at least thankful that they hadn’t had to move because of it. With all the family drama going on, it’d been left up to Dean to make sure Sam had everything he’d needed. He’d spent his entire life making sure he put Sam first for everything. Now that Sam was in the same school as him, it made it easier to look after him and it made all of his sacrifices worth it to see Sam happy. 

            The rest of the day was non-eventful, at least in Dean’s eyes. He went to Spanish and then his bullshit math class that he’d taken just because they were required to take a math all four years. After that he’d had football practice and Sam had debate team and they met back at the car when they were both done. He was glad that Sam had joined almost every club the school offered because it meant he wouldn’t have to feel bad for making Sam wait for him after football practice every day. He said he didn’t have a problem with just sitting on the bleachers doing homework but Dean still couldn’t stomach the guilt he felt sometimes.

             “Hey how was debate?” Dean asked as they were driving home.

             “It was alright. I made a new friend! I think we’re gonna try to hang out sometime. He seems really cool. I’ve talked to him some at the first meeting but we ended up talking for a long time today.”

            “That’s great Sammy,” he replied as he reached his hand over to ruffle Sam’s already too long hair for the second time that day, earning him a disgruntled glare and a shove.

             “His name’s Castiel and he’s really smart, even though I think he might’ve been high,” Sam replied, calmly. 

             “What?” Dean sputtered, taken aback. Those were definitely not the words he’d been expecting to hear Sam use to describe his “friend,” especially out of the blue like it wasn’t a big deal. It’s not typically the way you introduce someone you just met. And Sam tended to stay away from people like that, he’d always cared too much about school.

            “Well I mean I’m not an expert on drugs or anything, but his pupils were really huge and he kept laughing for no reason so I’m assuming that’s what was up.”

 

            “So then why did you talk to him?! Aren’t you usually hanging out with your crowd of other honor roll people?” 

 

            “C’mon Dean, he still was ridiculously smart, enough to hold an intelligent conversation which is more than I can say for some people. His sister was there too and she said that he tends to get high a lot, but he makes straight As so I guess it doesn’t affect his grade too much. 

 

            “So _she_ was totally fine with her brother showing up like that??”

 

            “Well, I think she was embarrassed that he’d shown up to the meeting like that. But he was still really interesting to talk to. And besides none of my other friends were there. Most of them had a project due that they had to work on for English.”

 

            “Who’s this guys sister?” Dean asked, a sudden surge of protectiveness washing over him. Sure, he’d go drinking with his friends and probably drank more than he really should, but he’d stayed away from anything harder than alcohol. After all, he’d always had football to think about. He could play with a hangover but he couldn’t risk getting kicked off the team for something worse. And Sam had a lot more on the line than football. He had his entire life ahead of him, and unlike Dean, he was actually going somewhere. Dean didn’t want him to blow away all his potential because he’d gotten in with the wrong crowd his first year of high school. 

 

            “Anna Novak. Dean, stop looking at me like that I’m not stupid I don’t need the ‘Just say no’ lecture,” Sam said with his patented bitchface. 

 

            “I’m just looking out for you!” he replied tossing around the name Anna Novak in his head trying to remember if he knew her. “Do you know if she’s friends with Lisa Braedan?” he asked suddenly realizing where the same sounded familiar from. If he was remembering correctly, she was the redhead he’d seen hanging out with Lisa at a lot of parties and bars they would all go to back when he was dating her. By his memory, Anna seemed to be one of those girls who got extremely drunk extremely easily, and was extremely easy when she was drunk. 

 

            “I’m not sure but I know she’s a senior and she’s got bright red hair”. Yep, that was her then. That didn’t exactly make him feel better. She was more of his crowd than Sam’s, and obviously didn’t care enough about her brother’s mental clarity to keep him away from that stuff. 

 

            “So if she’s a senior then what grade is Castiel in?” he asked, hoping that this guy wouldn’t turn out to be in any of Sam’s classes. 

 

            “He’s a senior too. They’re twins.”  Huh. Dean wondered why he had never seen him around in any of his classes. Or maybe he had and just didn’t realize it. Then again, Castiel isn’t exactly a common name, he’d think he’d remember hearing it at least once.

 

            “Why is he even in debate? If he showed up high it doesn’t seem like he could care too much about it.”

 

            “Well Anna’s the co-captain and he said she forces him to go.”     

 

            “Huh well okay,” Dean murmured as he reached over and turned up the radio. AC/DC had started playing, so he decided he was officially done with conversation for the rest of the car ride. As weird as it was that Dean had never heard of the guy before considering they were in the same grade, he had to admit he didn’t exactly branch out much from his group of popular kids. He wasn’t in the position to tell Sam who he could or couldn’t be friends with, he just decided to count on the fact that Sam was smarter than most kids and wouldn’t give into peer pressure. 

            That night at dinner his dad mentioned something about his grades to Dean, the same old crap, “ _This is your senior year blah blah blah you need to keep your grades up blah blah blah,”_ but he couldn’t find it in him to care. It’s not like John ever cared that much about his grades a few years ago, why start now just because he’d earned himself a few sobriety chips. He just rolled his eyes and stayed silent. That only made John start to compare him to Sam, making everything worse. 

 

           “Look at your brother,” John started, “Sam’s taking all honors classes this year and is in tons of clubs at school. You should take note of his dedication. Sam, how was debate?” John turned towards Sam.

 

            “It was good. They handed out a bunch of current events articles for us to read up on to prepare for the first competition. I made tons of friends but I’m starting to get close with this one guy Castiel.” _Since when did talking to this guy at one meeting count as “getting close”,_ Dean wondered. He was still feeling protective of his baby brother and found it weird that he was talking to someone so far off from his usual nerdy crowd.  

 

           “Oh that’s lovely sweetie,” Mary spoke up. “Tell us more about Castiel.” Dean would never had admitted it, but he was secretly hoping Sam would tell them about his friend’s drug habits. Maybe then he wouldn’t be the disappointment for once. Then again, he’d always rather have John be disappointed in him than in Sam. Dean could handle being the screw-up, it was what he’d been doing his entire life. 

 

            “He’s a senior and his twin sister is on the team too. He seems like one of those hipster types, you know always wears really baggy sweaters and is never seen without his Iphone and earbuds. He’s really smart though and was the only upperclassman who actually talked to the freshman.” _Yeah cause he’s probably trying to corrupt the young minds,_ Dean thought. This guy really seemed like the cliche hipster, so it really was no wonder he’d never had contact with him before. Dean was a jock and definitely not one to be seen with those hippie freaks. After that, the night progressed the same as always; Dean helped his mom clear the dishes and then him and Sam went to the rooms to finish homework. Of course Dean never actually did any of his homework, but it got John off his back to pretend. Most of the time he just ended up drawing whatever popped into his head or messing around on his laptop.

            The next day at school, Dean walked into Mr. Burke’s classroom fully prepared for another mind numbing lecture on more English bullshit that he really couldn’t care less about. And that’s exactly what Dean got. He was slightly surprised, though, when he looked down at his desk and saw words on the corner of it.

_I really liked your dragon. You’re a talented artist._

 

            Huh well that was weird. The dragon had been erased, like all of Dean’s impromptu doodles eventually were, but he’d always assumed Mr. Burke wiped them off at the end of the class period. Apparently not since someone else had seen it. He was feeling slightly confused about why someone would write him a message, it was just a stupid doodle and he’s not a good artist anyway; it was just something he did when he was bored. He erased the words off the corner and contented himself with drawing on the desk again while he ignored all attempts at learning. This time it was a car, a 67 Impala to be exact. After years of coveting his dads black ’67 Chevy Impala, it finally had become Dean’s at the start of the school year. He wasn’t gonna lie, the best part about going back to school was getting to show off his new ride. Right before the bell was about to ring, and Dean had finished his doodle masterpiece, he remembered about the note that’d been on his desk when he’d walked into class. _Huh well it couldn’t hurt to reply._ He glanced down at the desk one last time before pulling his pencil back out.

 

_Um, thanks. I’m not really a good artist but um thanks for saying so anyway._

 

            Before he could feel embarrassed he was being whisked away by a crowd of people to go to his next class.

* * *

 

            Castiel was starting to wonder why he was even at school today; he was nowhere near sober enough for this. He had walked into the building with headphones in his ears blaring music as he tried to act like he was anywhere but here, and he had made his way through his first two classes zoning out of everything the teacher said, but managed to still get all the answers right when he was called on. What could he say, he was gifted with bullshitting his way through school. When lunch finally rolled around, Castiel practically raced out behind the school where his friends all hang out.

 

            “Hey Cas you got any cigarettes?” Meg yelled out as he walked up. Meg had been Cas’s friend through all of high school, and he was probably closer to her than any of his other friends. It was nice to have some continuity in his life, even if it was in the form of the scowl Meg was always seen with and the sarcastic remark she was sure to reply with. She understood his choices though and was one of the only people who knew about his home life.

 

            “No, my mom found mine and took them. I was really hoping to get one off of you,” he groaned as he ran his hand through his hair before fidgeting with the hemline of his sweater. His high from this morning was wearing off by this point and he was in serious need of something to get him through the rest of the day. He was just glad she hadn’t found his weed or he’d have been in ever more trouble, and would have a harder time trying to put up with school. It was just then that Bela and Ruby walked up, the later holding out a pack of cigarettes.

 

            “I sense someone is in the need of a smoke?” she asked, her face softening in amusement at Cas’s desperate look towards the pack.

 

            “You don’t understand how much I love you right now,” Cas replied as he reached to take a cigarette from Ruby. He seriously needed to replenish his stock today or this week from hell would get even worse. As if on cue Meg spoke up.

 

            “Bad week?”

 

            Castiel hummed in affirmation as he took a long drag and exhaled. Damn he needed that. This week really had been horrible. As if his mother finding his cigarettes hadn’t been bad enough, he’d also gotten into a fight with her about college. Cas didn’t want, or plan, on going to college. He barely had managed to make it to his senior year of school without having a breakdown from stress, there was no way he was going to sign up for another four straight years of torture via the education system. Naomi wasn’t on board with this. His dad was more understanding than his mom; unfortunately though, his dad wasn’t around much. He was too busy trying to build up a writing career to care about his family, so it’s not like he was there to back Cas up when they got into arguments. After that argument, feelings were tense in the Novak household for a few days, so it only made sense that fate would throw more shit his way. 

            That was when Naomi found his cigarettes, which led to an even worse lecture this time bringing Lucifer into the story. Cas didn’t like to think about him and he especially hated when his mom brought him up in her reprimands. Lucifer was Cas’s older brother who’d left home when he was 18. Well more accurately Naomi had driven him to the point of leaving. A few years later, he’d been in a car accident and never made it out of the hospital. His mom’s new favorite pastime was using Lucifer’s “mistakes” as an example of why Cas and his siblings should “make the right decisions in life.” Her definition of right decisions didn’t include any of the choices Cas had made, which is why this lecture arose from the cigarettes and college debacle. He always hated how Naomi had seemed to have decided Lucifer’s life was solely an example of what happens when you screw-up; it didn’t even matter that he was her son. All he got out of his mother’s lectures was that she didn’t give a rat’s ass about her son’s life or death, and that life can be over in an instant so why not have bang a few gongs before the lights go out. So basically her advice backfired. 

             He quickly finished smoking and dropped the butt on the ground, crushing it with the heel of his boot, and looked back at Meg. He could tell she wanted to say something to help but he silenced her with a look. He really didn’t want to talk about it. Her facial expression was dripping with concern and he couldn’t handle people worrying about him, especially Meg who was notorious for never caring about anyone. It was unsettling when she expressed human emotions.

 

            “So um anyway,” Bela spoke up breaking the awkward silence that had crept up on them, “Ian got his hands on some LSD and wanted to know if you two are in for tomorrow night.” Ian had graduated two years before so a lot of the time he was the one who ended up supplying the illegal substances for them all since he didn’t have parents looking over his shoulder. Sometimes they all still went to clubs on weekdays, but since tomorrow was Friday it made sense that they’d wait for the weekend to go out. It was exactly what he needed. Loud music, his friends, and an excuse to get completely trashed, not that he really needed an excuse. Sometimes they didn’t make any plans and just went wandering around to whichever place was convenient or had cheap drinks. Most of the time it resulted in some sort of pills being popped and nobody remembering much of the night. 

            “Well you know you don’t gotta ask me twice,” Meg answered. 

            “Yeah I’m definitely in,” Cas added.

 

            More people started to join their group then so their conversation became less organized as different people broke out talking. He spent the rest of lunch lounging on the ground casually flirting with some guy as he tried to forget about the fact that he still had to get through the rest of the school day. He was broken out of his reverie as the bell rang, forcing him to get to class. He groaned to himself and almost decided to just skip the rest of his classes before just forcing himself to go to English. If he missed too many days they might end up calling Naomi and then he’d be even worse off. 

 

            Castiel walked into Mr. Burke’s classroom preparing himself for another boring class period that he wouldn’t even remember tomorrow. He wondered if he put his headphones in if the teacher would even notice. As he contemplated this idea, he glanced down at his desk and found himself with a small grin on his face. In the place of the dragon that’d been on the desk yesterday there was now some sort of car and a reply to the message Cas had written when he’d been bored in class. Obviously someone else was bored too. He couldn’t tell what kind of car it was, he’d never been much of a car person, but he could see how much attention to detail the artist had put in the drawing. Someone must have been _really_ bored in class. He could also see that this person had a clear talent for art. Still basking in his nicotine high from lunch, he decided to write another message back, for who knows what reason.

 

_You clearly are a good artist; I couldn’t draw like that to save my life._

 

            Cas briefly wondered if the doodler would even see his reply or if it’d be erased before then. Of course, for all he knew, whoever it was could have English for the next class period and the car drawing had been there since the day before. Cas looked up as class started, only to remember just exactly why he hated this class. Instead of paying attention, he decided to test his plan to listen to music. He popped his headphones in and clicked on the first song on his playlist, some song by Vampire Weekend that he didn’t know the words to. Throughout the class period he found himself glancing down at his desk and wondering about the person who drew the dragon and the car. He couldn’t place exactly why, but it interested him. 

 

             Cas walked home that day stopping at Starbucks on the way. He needed some caffeine if he was going to deal with his parents when he got home. Walking down the streets of LA, he blocked out everyone around him as he took a sip of his frappuccino. He slipped his headphones back into his ears scrolling through until he found a song he liked by Bastille. 

 

_Are you going to age with grace?_

_Are you going to age without mistakes?_

_Are you going to age with grace?_

_Only to wake and hide your face?_

_When, Oblivion,_

_Is calling out your name._

_You always take it further,_

_than I ever can._

 

           There was a convenience store on the block right before his apartment building, so he stopped there to get more cigarettes. He’d never been more thankful for being one of the oldest in his class than when he’d finally turned 18 at the beginning of the year and could actually buy cigarettes without using his fake ID or having to sweet talk the person at the counter. He’d never had a problem with getting them before, but it just made everything easier to be able to do it the legal way. Now that he was 18, though, it was even more annoying that Naomi insisted on putting so many restrictions on his life, like taking away his cigarettes in the first place. She knew he could just go buy more so he didn’t see why she even bothered but he supposed she kept hoping that if he had to keep spending money and time to get more that he’d eventually give up. Not ever gonna happen. She was the one who provided him with the money in the first place, she knew what he was going to do with it. But he guessed business women don’t really care that much about what their money is going towards as long as they have it in the first place.

            Cas finished walking home and was thankful that his dad wasn’t home. Naomi had strict work hours, but the life of a writer was less scheduled. Which was unfortunate for Cas because often when he got in trouble, his dad would be waiting for him when he got home. As that wasn’t the case, he promptly went upstairs to his room and crashed on his bed without even bothering to change out of his skinny jeans and sweater. Before he drifted off to sleep, the drawings from his English desk wavered behind his eyelids and he couldn’t for the life of him figure out what it was about them that made him curious.


End file.
